


Meltdown

by AutisticWriter



Series: Cuddles [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Allura (Voltron), Autistic Coran (Voltron), Crying, Gen, Hugs, Meltdown, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, One Shot, Prompt Fill, Self-Harm, Sensory Overload, Stimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 23:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11931576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: In which Coran has a meltdown and Allura is there to support him.Cuddle number 3: On the floor





	Meltdown

He feels awful. Exhausted from a lack of sleep and the stress of worrying about the Paladins after they went on yet another (highly risky) mission, Coran is horribly groggy yet also hyper alert. Basically, he feels dreadful, but he doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone.

Tense and anxious, Coran finds his hands shaking as he runs checks on the Castle, making sure everything still works properly after the multiple hits it took during their battle with the Galra. It doesn’t help that the Paladins are bickering (again), their voices too loud and hurting his oversensitive ears as they shout and laugh.

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith says. “That’s not funny.”

“Shut up yourself!” Lance cries, and the sound makes Coran’s ears ring.

He tries to block their voices out, turning back to his diagnostic screens. When he touches the screen, it sends a tingling sensation up his hand. All of his senses are going hypersensitive. He hasn’t experienced this in a long time… and then Coran feels even worse, because the last time this happened, he ended up having a meltdown.

He hasn’t had a meltdown since his youth, when he broke down sobbing, banging his head against the floor and curling in on himself as the world seemed to overwhelm him. It was painful and horrible and humiliating, and Coran hopes he won’t ever experience that again.

But everything is getting more and more overwhelming. Coran hears hysterical laughter that makes his head feel like it is going to explode, and spins around to see Hunk and Pidge actually chasing each other around the room, seemingly practising an exercise they learned on the training deck (although they may just be messing around).

“Stop it!” he snaps before he can stop himself, his voice coming out shrill and panicky. “Stop it, all of you!”

To his relief, everyone stops talking. Hunk and Pidge freeze in place, and Shiro stands up.

“Coran?” Shiro says, and Coran can’t bring himself to look at him.

“What did we do?” Lance says, confused.

“Coran?” Hunk says.

He looks at Allura, and he sees a strange expression on the Princess’s face. She smiles and approaches him, and even her footsteps are too loud.

“Are you all right?” she asks, her voice soft.

Coran nods, immediately regretting it as his head spins, throwing him off balance. He almost stumbles, having to lock his legs out to stop himself falling. He wants to flap his hands how he always did in his youth, but instead he twists the ends of his moustache with his still trembling fingers.

“Sorry,” he says, forcing himself to smile and act like the Coran he is supposed to be. “I’m just… stressed. Would you excuse me?”

And, very conscious of how the Paladins and Allura are staring at him, a very stressed and overwhelmed Coran walks out of the room.

\---

“What’s the matter with Coran?” Lance says, and it is at moments like this that Allura knows Lance and Coran have a close friendship.

“Yeah, he looked awful,” Hunk adds, sitting down at his station.

“I’m not sure,” Allura says, but Coran’s behaviour seemed oddly familiar.

She looks at the scans Coran has been doing and sees several errors in his programming. He never makes errors. What is wrong with him?

\---

Once he is away from the others, Coran breaks into a run. His hands go up to his head, clamping over his ears in an attempt to block out the agonising noises that never usually bother him.

He rushes into his bedroom, and barely has time to shut the door before he falls to the floor. He curls up tightly, and lets himself rock back and forth and back and forth, tears running down his face as his senses and his emotions overwhelm him.

Just before he screws his eyes up, Coran sees the Mice watching him. He would try to talk to them, but he can’t seem to process speech right now. All his brain can do is overload and whirr with too many thoughts and make everything hurt and make him feel like absolute quiznak. And he hates it, but it isn’t like he hasn’t been through this before.

\---

_Tears streamed down Coran’s face as he ran out of the room, his hands clamped over his ears to block out the agonising noise. He didn’t know where he was going. He just had to escape._

_Coran ducked down a deserted corridor and sank to the floor, his legs just giving way beneath him. He hugged his legs to his chest, pressing his back against the wall as he tried (and failed) to stop himself hyperventilating._

_He slammed the back of his head against the wall, trying to stop the horrible pressure of so many thoughts swirling around his brain. It hurt so much, but he couldn’t stop. All he knew was how much everything hurt and how meltdowns were horrible and he wanted it to stop. He hadn’t had a meltdown since he was very young, but it was even worse this time._

_“Quiznak,” he muttered through gritted teeth, digging his hands into his hair as more tears spilled down his cheeks._

_“Coran?”_

_Coran opened his eyes, his vision blurry with tears. Alfor was stood in front of him. He must have followed him. of course he did; if anyone was going to recognise Coran having a meltdown, it would be Alfor._

_Alfor had known Coran since they were both very young, and had watched many times as Coran broke down screaming as the adults reprimanded him for making a scene. And Alfor was the one who told them to leave him alone, and then sat with him instead. He was the person who first reassured Coran that there was nothing wrong with being autistic, and, being a Prince, he managed to force most people to actually learn about autism. When a tearful and grateful Coran asked him why he was doing this, Alfor told him that he was sick of everyone being mean to him just for having a meltdown “because it isn’t your fault, Coran, and they need to understand that.” Alfor, his best friend, helped him so much, and was the only reason their people even knew anything about autism to this day._

_So it made perfect sense that Alfor knew exactly what to do all these years later, when face with his friend having a meltdown. Coran looked up at him, and he saw an understanding smile on his face. Alfor knew how much he hated meltdowns, so he always provided moral support, just sitting beside him so Coran didn’t feel so alone._

_And this time was no exception. It was just like when they were very young, expect this time they were both teenagers and the meltdown felt even worse._

_“May I sit beside you?” Alfor asked. When Coran nodded his throbbing head, Alfor sat down near him, and just sat in silence._

_Coran toppled over and curled up in a ball on the floor, sobbing hysterically but not feeling embarrassed to know his friend was there. After all, Alfor had seen many of his meltdowns, and, as his friend always told him, they were nothing to be ashamed of. When Coran started banging his head against the floor, Alfor placed something padded under his head so the thuds didn’t hurt so much._

_When the meltdown was over, Alfor carried Coran to his bedroom. In normal circumstances, Coran would have been astounded to be inside a Prince’s bedchamber, but these were not normal circumstances. It was just a friend helping another, taking him somewhere safe and quiet to feel better._

_Eventually, Coran fell asleep with a pounding head, cuddled up in Alfor’s bed, relieved to have such a wonderful friend. He didn’t know how much worse the meltdown might have been if Alfor had not helped him._

_He hoped Alfor would sit beside him the next time he had a meltdown – although he also hoped he would never have a meltdown again._

\---

Allura is completing (and correcting) the scans Coran started when the Mice climb onto her shoulder. They make chattering sounds in her ear, and she knows they want to talk.

“Hello,” she says, smiling fondly. But she is rather busy, so she goes back to looking at her screen.

But the Mice aren’t having that. They all jump onto the surface in front of her, and keep jumping around and waving and squeaking until Allura finally gets the message and stops ignoring them.

“What do you want to tell me?”

Squeaking, the Mice climb on top of each other and start miming, leaving Allura to guess what they are trying to tell her. They mime a moustache, and she knows they are talking about Coran. Immediately, Allura tenses up, remembering how unwell Coran looked before he stormed out. And when they continue miming, Allura feels positively nauseous.

“Coran is _what_?” she cries, and the Mice nod. As though they sense her fear, they climb back onto her shoulder.

She should have noticed the signs. Yes, she experiences it differently, but Allura goes through sensory overloads herself. How could she have not noticed?

“What’s wrong, Princess?” Shiro asks.

Allura forces herself to smile, but her fingers tap-tap-tap together as she clasps her hands behind her back. “Nothing, really. Um… Pidge, could you take over? I’ll be back in a minute.”

The Paladins look confused, but Allura doesn’t have time to explain (not that she could anyway, because she isn’t going to tell them about Coran’s autism without his consent). She rushes out of the room, the Mice clinging to her shoulder so they don’t fall off.

Allura has never seen Coran have a meltdown. He is usually very skilled at keeping his sensory issues hidden, and is so good at adapting to his surroundings that she rarely sees him start to have a sensory overload. But everything must just be too much for him today. And she doesn’t blame him; Allura still feels a bit wobbly after the shutdown she had this morning.

Following the directions the Mice give her, Allura manages to locate Coran. She finds him curled up on the floor in his bedroom, rocking himself backwards and forwards as he sobs hysterically and occasionally thumps his head against the floor.

For a few ticks she just stands there, watching him, but then Allura remembers why she came here.

“Coran?” she whispers, knowing how painful normal-volume voices can sound when your senses are overloading.

Knowing there is nothing she can do to stop his meltdown, because they are something you just have to let happen, no matter how horrible they are, Allura simply sits down not too far away from Coran. As she sits beside her friend (who is more of a second father than a friend, really), Allura is reminded of her childhood, when her father would sit beside her for support when she went into shutdowns. She wonders if Father ever did the same for Coran; after all, they were very close friends.

But thinking about her father makes her want to cry, and Allura has to run her fingers through her hair to calm herself down.

\---

Slowly, Coran’s meltdown ends. Allura watches him visibly relax, his tears ceasing as his breathing slows to the normal rate. He looks weak and exhausted and his eyes are bleary, but he also looks so much better. He sits up slowly and leans his back against the wall, screwing his eyes up. But then he opens them again and looks at Allura, and his very pale face flushes slightly, presumably from embarrassment.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hello,” Allura says, still keeping her voice quiet.

Coran rubs his hands together, pressing the tips of his fingers together the way he always does when Allura sees him looking tired and stressed.

“May I hug you?” she asks, thinking about how she hates being hugged during a shutdown, but likes the support when it is over.

Coran smiles and wipes his eyes. “Yes, of course you can.”

Allura shuffles closer and wraps her arms around him, leaning her head against Coran’s shoulder. He leans his head against Allura’s, and she hears him sigh.

“I’m sorry for this, Allura,” Coran says, his voice still hoarse from crying. “We don’t have time for meltdowns.”

“Coran, please tell me my father told you that you should never be ashamed of your autism,” Allura says.

“Why, yes he did.” Coran frowns, confused. “How do you know that?”

“Because he told me that too,” Allura says. “And I always think about his words whenever I feel my autism is making me act in a way improper for a Princess, or whatever. Because there is nothing improper about it. Everyone needs time to let go. When you are autistic, you just need a bit more time. Meltdowns are normal for you. Shutdowns are normal for me. It’s all normal.” Allura hugs him tighter, pressing her forehead against Coran’s shoulder. “Please, Coran, remember Father’s words. Please don’t feel bad. You can’t help it.”

When Allura looks at him, Coran is crying. He sniffs and wipes his eyes, cradling her in his arms.

“Thank you, Princess,” he says, smiling through his tears. “You are so much like your father.”

And Allura’s eyes fill with tears when she realises that is the best compliment someone could ever give her.


End file.
